


Born Anew

by SoThisIsAThingIWrote



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoThisIsAThingIWrote/pseuds/SoThisIsAThingIWrote
Summary: "I think snakes get a bad reputation," Jude says. She lifts the black doublet and motions Cardan to turn around, holding it up as he shrugs into it. "I never minded them. I had a stuffed snake I used to sleep with as a child."Cardan turns around, one elegant brow raised. "Did you?"Jude nods, tugging the doublet into place. She makes no move to do up the jet buttons. She likes the contrast between the black velvet and the white shirt underneath, the dark and the light of it. She likes the way it hangs with a sort of carelessness from his shoulders, the slightly undone look of him. "His name was Mr. Hiss."Her husband snorts, slipping his arms around her. "You have a poet's soul, Jude Duarte."in which Jude and her husband get ready for a revel, with a side of symbolism and snakes.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 4
Kudos: 120





	Born Anew

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if Holly Black meant this at all when she chose a snake, but I had fun with it!  
> Also, clothes and accessories, because Cardan. And knives, because Jude.

"I fear," Cardan pronounces, "that this may trump even my love of excess."

"They've certainly gone with a theme, haven't they?" Jude murmurs. She reaches out and runs her fingers across the sleeve of a velvet doublet, perfectly stitched and black as night, save for the embroidered snakes worked cunningly in gold thread up each arm. 

Across the royal chambers, gifts have been spread out in preparation for tonight's revel. Snakeskin boots and hunting jackets. Multiple knives with golden serpents curling around their hilts or etched upon their blades. An entire suit of armor crafted to look like scales. Tiny golden serpents meant to dangle from pointed ears. A shirt of painted silk. A cloak with a hood meant to look like the head of a snake. More packages yet to be unwrapped; from lower courts, from solitary fey, from craftsmen seeking favour, all for their restored king. 

"The folk love a good story," Cardan says, and Jude thinks of the songs that have filled the brugh for weeks, "and what better story than a serpent king." His mouth twists into the slightly mocking smile Jude knows so well. "Equal parts thrilling and terrifying." 

They haven't spoken much about his time as a serpent since that moment in the room behind the dias. Certainly their court has come to embrace it; there are songs and jests but real admiration, and fear, in their voices as well. 

Safe on the other side of the curse, Jude can understand it. There  _ is _ something thrilling and terrifying about it. She wonders if Cardan feels the same. She knows him well enough, knows his past well enough, to know that there must have been at least the smallest thrill there, in being something so powerful, so feared. But she also thinks of how heavily the prophecy of his birth had weighed on him, how those three days in the dark still sometimes do. Jude knows that there is something frightening in  _ being _ frightening. 

The trick to living with the knowledge that you could be something terrible was to find the balance, she supposed. To acknowledge the thrill but never forget the fear. 

"I think snakes get a bad reputation," Jude says. She lifts the black doublet and motions Cardan to turn around, holding it up as he shrugs into it. "I never minded them. I had a stuffed snake I used to sleep with as a child."

Cardan turns around, one elegant brow raised. "Did you?"

Jude nods, tugging the doublet into place. She makes no move to do up the jet buttons. She likes the contrast between the black velvet and the white shirt underneath, the dark and the light of it. She likes the way it hangs with a sort of carelessness from his shoulders, the slightly undone look of him. "His name was Mr. Hiss."

Her husband snorts, slipping his arms around her. "You have a poet's soul, Jude Duarte." 

She makes a face at him, and pokes his shoulder in retaliation. Jude leaves her finger there, feeling the heat of him through linen and velvet. "Heather told me something about snakes once." In truth, after hours in the royal library, Heather had been able to tell her a lot about snakes, but this one thing stood out from all the rest. "Have you ever heard of an Ouroboros?"

Cardan shakes his head.

"It's a serpent," Jude continues, "that eats its own tail. It's supposed to represent the circle of all things. That there is death," she draws a half circle in the soft nap of the velvet, "but from that death comes rebirth." Her finger moves again in another arc, completing the circle. "There are people who believe that snakes symbolise resurrection. That when they shed their skin, they are born anew. Creation out of destruction. Balance." 

Cardan's fingers slip under her chin, gently tilting her face up to his. The line of his mouth has softened and his eyes are bright. "Jude."

Jude thinks of prophecies and blood on the blade of a sword. Cardan with a broken crown in his hands. How Lord Roiben told her that in that moment he would have fought for him until the breath left the white haired knight's body. She thinks of the Folk, kneeling in the blood and sand after the battle. She thinks of all the blood that got them to that moment.

She thinks of the two of them now; here together. Thinks of the court waiting for them in the brugh, ready to welcome their Serpent High King and his High Queen of Knives. Thinks of broken bonds and love and loyalty freely given. 

And then Cardan lowers his mouth to hers, and she doesn't think at all.

Jude selects the knife with the best balance, and buckles the sheath around her husband's waist. Cardan slips a dangling snake earring into one ear. She places his crown on his head, rolling her eyes when he immediately knocks it slightly askew. He rolls  _ his _ eyes when she immediately reaches up to straighten the crown he places on her head in turn. 

When Cardan turns, Jude's eyes catch on a black box resting on one of the couches, something that she hadn't noticed before. Cardan looks over her shoulder as she picks it up and flips open the lacquered lid. "Oh," she breaths.

Inside is a ring. An exquisitely wrought black serpent, with golden eyes and just the barest sheen of gold on it's scales.

Eating it's own tail. 

Jude touches one finger to the top of the ring. She can feel each of the tiny scales that have been worked with such care and skill. The metal is slightly warm to the touch. She holds the box out to Cardan but he smiles and shakes his head, gently pushing it back to her. Without a word Jude crosses the room to her dressing table, where she plucks a golden chain from her jewelry box. She threads the ring onto the chain and loops it over her head. The ring settles against her chest, over her heart. 

"Tell me," Cardan says when she returns to him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and stroking his thumb along it's rounded curve, "whatever happened to Mr. Hiss?"

"I threw him into a fire."

Cardan blinks, his thumb stopping in place. "Ah."

Jude leans into the hand still by her face. "Destruction is part of life. Besides," she grins up at him, "I like the serpent I sleep with now  _ much _ better."


End file.
